


City's Burden

by Arwriter



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Bruce is traumatized just a bit, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, I changed canon for whump purposes it's fine, I guess sort of - Freeform, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin (DCU), Takes place after the first game, Who knows but here it is, Whump, Why Did I Write This?, awkward car rides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 02:34:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20481422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwriter/pseuds/Arwriter
Summary: When the nightmare is over, Batman accepts Gordon's offer.Gordon doesn't understand, but he's starting to.





	City's Burden

**Author's Note:**

> I replayed the game for nostalgia and was quickly reminded that I have no self-control  
Nobody asked for this but I wrote it anyway because I love you guys

If Jim Gordon had to shake one more hand, he was going to march right back through the asylum doors, free Joker, and demand to be taken prisoner again. 

His wrists still throbbed from where the restraints had dug ruthlessly into his skin, head pounding, eyes stinging behind his skull. The medics had given him something for the pain, but there was only so much they could do. 

The sky was turning a light gray, the first light of the welcome morning finally rising up from the surrounding water, and Gordon’s shoulders sagged in relief as everything finally began to quiet down. 

It felt like months since this nightmare had started. Years, even. Not just one, horrible night. 

Gordon nodded to the last of the lingering guards- most staying with newfound determination to clean up the mess and retake their territory- and scanned the quieting courtyard. 

It wasn’t hard to find what he was looking for. The black suit was meant to blend in with midnight shadows, standing out significantly in the approaching morning. 

Batman was leaned up against one of the police cars, trying and failing to appear like he wasn’t putting most of his weight on it, looking dangerously close to collapsing. 

Glancing over his shoulder to ensure no one was watching, Gordon made his way to the edge of the courtyard, the masked man unmoving, still staring blankly at a spot on the blood-stained ground. 

In retrospect, reaching out to touch the Dark Knight after a night that had nearly meant the end of Gotham wasn’t the smartest idea. 

As soon as his fingers brushed his shoulder, Batman jolted back into the waking world, eyes wide as he pulled away, hand hovering protectively over his no doubt injured arm. 

It seemed to take a moment too long for Batman to recover, blinking at Gordon who stood with his hands held up, before visibly relaxing and leaning back again. 

“You ok?” 

The Dark Knight nodded, eyes sliding to watch the closed asylum doors. “Fine.” 

Gordon found himself gazing at the water, gray and motionless, unable to push away the all too vivid memory of Bane out of his mind, the way he’d been reduced to nothing but a bloodthirsty monster. 

“Sorry about your car,” he said, offering an apologetic smile that went unseen. “Can I give you a ride?” 

He hadn’t exactly been serious, hadn’t even really expected an answer, the thought of giving Gotham’s guardian a ride home unintentionally making him smile. 

But Batman suddenly looked unsure, turning to meet Gordon’s eyes from behind the mask, frown deepening. 

“I can...find another way to--” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Careful not to touch him again, Gordon slowly started for his car, motioning for the masked man to follow. “Come on. It’s the least I can do.”

He almost expected a refusal, silently relieved when Batman followed. Gordon could see the limp he was trying to hide, the way he was practically seconds from losing his balance. 

After tonight, the man deserved far more than just a ride back into the city. 

Gordon could smell blood and burnt flesh as he settled into the driver’s seat, briefly wondering just how badly Batman was hurt, the air tense and heavy. 

He nodded through the window to one of the guards still on duty outside, ignoring the curious look sent his way when the man saw his passenger, gripping the steering wheel and leaving Arkham Island behind. 

Batman was silent beside him, turned away to watch the passing landscape, but his breathing was too quick and too heavy to be considered normal. 

“How’d he get to you?” 

The question was so sudden, Gordon almost startled, glancing curiously at the passenger side before understanding. 

“The captain was one of Joker’s men,” he explained. “Turned the boat around as soon as you were out of sight.” 

For a long moment, Batman didn’t respond, didn’t look like he was inclined to. Maybe he hadn’t even heard. It was a miracle the man was even still functioning at all. 

They’d made it to the empty Gotham streets by the time he spoke again, quiet and gravelly, all traces of confidence and authority gone. 

“I thought you were safe,” he said. “I should have...I’m sorry, Jim.” 

“You’re--?” He had to glance in the rearview mirror to make sure there was no one behind him, yanking the car to the side and slamming on the breaks. “You’re  _ sorry?”  _

Batman was looking at him now, uncertainty nearly hidden beneath the cowl, glancing at the car door like he wasn’t quite sure if he was supposed to get out or not. 

“Everything you did tonight,” Gordon went on, not sure where his anger was coming from. This was the last person he should be raising his voice at. “Everything you--you’re fucking  _ sorry?”  _

A beat of silence passed, long enough for Gordon to realize  _ he  _ should probably be the one apologizing. He’d been the one to allow himself to get captured twice in one night.

“Did you talk to your family?” Batman asked, once again taking Gordon by surprise. He nodded, suddenly aching for the safety of his own home. 

“I called my daughter,” he explained. “She, uh, she wanted me to thank you for her.” 

Batman nodded, solemn, like he’d somehow already known. He took a breath, grimacing when he tried to move his shoulder, a hand rested on the door handle. 

“Get some rest, Commissioner.” 

Batman could handle himself. Gordon knew that better than anyone. His injuries tonight were far from the worst he had suffered. And yet, he couldn’t keep himself from calling out. 

“You sure you’re alright?” 

Batman stopped, hand still on the door. He’d been still since they’d gotten in the car, too tense and too quiet, jaw clenched so tightly Gordon thought it might shatter. 

“It’s been a long night.” 

“I know.” He hadn’t been there for all of it. He couldn’t imagine the extent of what the other had gone through. But something told him this wasn’t just pain. “But are  _ you  _ ok?” 

Another moment of hesitation, but this time his hand fell away from the door and he straightened in his seat. His jaw stayed clenched, gloved hands curling into fists, and Gordon could have sworn he saw them tremble. 

And all at once, he was reminded that this wasn’t just the Dark Knight, Gotham’s unbreakable hero. This was a  _ man.  _ A man just as human as those he protected, who had been left to bear the burden of this city alone. 

“I need to get home,” he said. “I need to get to the antidote.” 

“Antidote?” Gordon echoed. “Is...if Titan isn’t out of your system, we could have--” 

Batman shook his head, silencing him. “Not Titan. Scarecrow’s toxin.” 

_ “Scarecrow?”  _ Just like that, all lingering anger and doubt was replaced with panic. He leaned closer, some kind of protective worry taking over. “How much?” 

Another beat of silent hesitation, and if it was possible, Batman went even more still. 

“He said it was enough to drive ten men insane.” 

Panic was quickly becoming an understatement. “Jesus--We need to get you to a hospital!” 

“I’m fine, Jim.” 

“Are you out of your  _ mind?  _ You’ve seen what it does to people, they--” 

He stopped himself, something in Batman’s words finally clicking. If Scarecrow had been running free alongside Joker, then he would have released the toxin hours ago. By all accounts, Batman should have already submitted to its effects.

He should be dead. 

The panic wasn’t gone, but it was gradually morphing into steady concern. Maybe it was something parental, something that had never quite left him, even after Barbara moved out. 

“How’d you do it?” he asked, not sure he really wanted to know the answer, but needing some kind of confirmation that the Dark Knight wouldn’t keel over in his car. 

But all he got was a small shrug, and the ghost of an empty smile. “Maybe I’m just as crazy as the rest of them.” 

He was clearly too tired to keep the sorrow in his voice masked, the emotion behind the cowl strange and foreign, but surprisingly welcomed. 

“Maybe,” Gordon said, smiling softly in response to Batman’s uneasy glance. “Nothing wrong with that. But you’re a good man. You’re not like them.” 

He could feel the Bat scanning him, like he was trying to decipher if it was genuine or not. It felt odd- he didn’t even know the man’s name, but he meant every word. 

“I’ll take you wherever you want,” Gordon said when there was no reply. “Hell, if you need a place to stay, our guest room’s always open.” 

It dragged a small smirk out of the masked man, Gordon unsurprised when he only silently turned again to open the car door. 

“You deserve a few days off,” he said earnestly. “The Joker should be out of commission for a while.” 

Tonight would be their last incident with the clown if they were lucky, but Gordon knew better than to hold on to that hope. Batman wouldn’t, and neither would the people of Gotham. 

“Gotham won’t rest,” Batman said, voicing the dark thoughts aloud. “If anything, tonight just made things worse.” 

The door was pushed open, letting in the crisp, early morning air, Gordon shuddering against the chill. Batman paused, considering, and Gordon let himself speak up again. 

“Why do you think they do it?” he asked, noting how the man went stiff once again. “Why would someone want all that death? All that...blood?” 

All these years, and he still couldn’t understand. For a while, he hadn’t understood Batman either, had kept searching for some kind of sinister agenda the Dark Knight was after. 

It made him sick, to think that he’d grown more used to the violence and bloodshed, than to men wanting to stop it. 

Batman turned back to look at him, eyes watching from behind the mask, sincere and understanding. 

“It’s this city,” he said, voice void of all it’s usual darkness. “There’s something wrong with it.” 

And with that he was gone, slipping out of the car and disappearing into the shadows. 

Gordon was left alone in his car, the door left open for the frigid morning, memories awakening as he began to understand. 

**Author's Note:**

> In which Ar is a batman fan and nobody is surprised. I might write more batfam or Bruce whump because I love procrastinating


End file.
